


The Lord of the Forest

by keir



Series: Kinktober 2018 [27]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Happy Ending, Horror, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Knotting, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teratophilia, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 19:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16792921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keir/pseuds/keir
Summary: In the valley, there is a legend, a legend of a man or a ghost, a monster or a demon: he is the Lord of the Forest. When the leaves fall and the world turns to slumber, he wakes. At night he creeps through the villages, searching, always searching. What he hungers for, the people do not know, but every year there is a sacrifice to him, for the price of peace is human blood.In the woods, the Lord travels, wailing in the night, always wailing, for he longs for a time when he will live in the warmth of spring once more. He longs for what was lost: his blue-eyed mate. Only when his mate is given back will he know peace.





	The Lord of the Forest

**Author's Note:**

> My last Kinktober 2018 piece! Thank you to those who have read and enjoyed my stories. :) I've met new fans through this experience and have inspired some new kinks in people, and that has made it all worthwhile!

_In the valley, there is a legend, a legend of a man or a ghost, a monster or a demon: he is the Lord of the Forest. When the leaves fall and the world turns to slumber, he wakes. At night he creeps through the villages, searching, always searching. What he hungers for, the people do not know, but every year there is a sacrifice to him, for the price of peace is human blood._

_In the woods, the Lord travels, wailing in the night, always wailing, for he longs for a time when he will live in the warmth of spring once more. He longs for what was lost: his blue-eyed mate. Only when his mate is given back will he know peace._

The sun was setting, dying at the edge of the mountains in a great blaze of orange pierced with pinks and purples. The colors bled across the sky like bright veins. The trees were splashed with golden light, but their dark trunks seemed to absorb it. Their branches twisted upward, clawing at the sky, beckoning night to come. Everything that entered the forest at night died.

Lance screamed as he had been screaming for the past half an hour. His throat was raw, but he kept screaming. His hands tugged at the rope strapped around his wrists, binding him to the thick trunk of a tree. His skin was bruised and scraped and raw, broken open and bleeding, and yet still Lance desperately tugged.

He didn't want to die here, not like this. Not like all the others that had come before him. He didn't want to meet whatever gruesome fate they had met, whatever it had been; there was only blood and signs of a scuffle by morning when the villagers went to check. They never found any bodies nor bones, the forest offering up no answers.

So Lance fought to not become another mystery, bleeding and struggling and screaming. The sacrifice happened every year, on Harvest Eve; the tradition was old enough that no one remembered the real reason, only that it must be done. There were tales of the Lord of the Forest, the one who must be sacrificed to in order for the village to make it through the winter. Lance had heard all the tales around the fire of the commonhouse, rapt as his siblings and elders detailed a man-like beast with fangs and long limbs and a haunting cry. He would gather babes from their cribs and swallow them whole, pick his teeth with the bones of his victims and wail outside houses during the fierce winter storms. Only a sacrifice willingly given would do to make the Lord of the Forest pass over their village and let them live in peace.

Lance had been chosen by the elders. He had felt numb at their proclamation. The Lord would take no lesser offering; he needed a sacrifice that would please him, whether fair of face or quick of wit or filled with brute strength.

He had tried to run, but they caught him, carried him into the woods screaming. His family was kept under guard lest they try to save him. The sacrifice had to be made. Lance knew that, he knew yet he was afraid. The light was dying and it was so cold. He shivered, his feet numb amongst the crisp fallen leaves; they had taken his clothes, for what need did he have of them now? He stared at his ragged skin and sobbed, so very afraid. The sun sank and sank and sank, and then was no more.

Lance's body shook with the cold, his limbs heavy with it as his labored breathing produced small white puffs in the frigid air. The fog was rolling in, creeping tendrils crawling across the forest floor, reaching for him. It billowed around him, obscuring any view as it grew darker. There was no sound, not a single chirp or croak, not a single rustling of leaves. The night was as still as death.

Lance thought he was starting to hallucinate as he saw shapes in the mist, vaguely humanoid. He called out tentatively, voice tremulous as his fragile body shook. One of them drew closer and closer, rising from the darkness.

It was a man, and yet it wasn't. He was tall and pale, his hair as dark as the twisted trees, and his--his very inhuman eyes--glowed yellow. Lance let out a sob, tugging at his bonds without any real force, his skin burning with the fire of pain. The man creature approached, slow and steady, and Lance felt as if he was suddenly outside his body looking down, somehow calm and detached.

It was the Lord of the Forest; he knew that now. He knew without words that he belonged to this creature, that his life was in the Lord's hands. He was eerily beautiful, his cheekbones high and wide, his body that of perfection. Lance briefly felt at peace being sacrificed to such a being. He wasn't even aware of the cold any more as his hands were untied; he swayed, staring up into golden eyes. Hands touched his cheeks, not warm or cold, just existing in nothingness as they cradled his face. Lance felt safe, unafraid as the creature held him. The Lord leaned down and took his lips, and Lance gasped as he slammed back into his body, suddenly felt everything around him again. His heart hammered against his ribs as the fear consumed him, taking over his thoughts.

He bolted, running into the forest. He wouldn't be like the others, he wouldn't die there. He fled into the woods, not knowing which way he was going, only knowing that he had to flee. He drew in ragged breaths as he ran, branches scratching his naked skin. His feet were numb with cold but he felt every scrape and stab of the forest litter against them, until he was limping awkwardly with the pain. Still he kept going, trying to think only of getting away, shoving the pain deep down. He stumbled, falling against a trunk, and looked behind him.

The Lord followed, not far, and the humanoid shapes still danced in the mist. Lance sobbed in fear as he forged on, lungs on fire, wrists pulsing with pain. He tripped and fell amongst the leaf litter, scrambled up to continue on, favoring his right leg. He could feel the blood trickling down it, but he couldn't stop. He heard a soft growl.

Lance dared to look behind him, and he moaned in fear. The Lord was still there, but he wasn't human any more, not even close. He was somewhere between human and wolf, walking upright as a man, but his body was covered in fur and his face was that of a beast. As Lance stared in horror, lips pulled back on the snout, flesh crinkling as fangs were bared.

Lance screamed, a shout of defiance and fear, a cry meant to motivate himself to keep moving. He shambled forward, weak with cold and body pulsing with pain. He didn't make it far.

The beast was on him, and Lance cried out, kicking and clawing. It snarled at him, long fangs snapping. They tussled on the forest floor, leaves flying as Lance fought, but he wasn't strong enough. The Lord pinned him down, and Lance stared up into glowing eyes, trembling in terror. The beast sniffed at him, cold nose trailing over his torso, and Lance closed his eyes with a whimper. It snarled, and Lance fell quiet, fingers trembling. It licked him, belly to sternum, and Lance whined, hands clenching into fists. He dared to open his eyes and look down, his breath catching in his throat.

Between the beast's legs rose a long, red shaft, his cock unsheathed. Lance panted as he watched it bob gently, mesmerizing and terrifying. The Lord watched him, and Lance knew he could see straight inside him, see every thought. He whined in fear as the beast rested back on its haunches and lifted his body into the air.

The tongue was warm and wet, delving between his cheeks in long swaths. Lance keened, trying to arch away, but he was held fast by clawed hands. The Lord took his time, tasting him intimately; Lance's balls bounced as the tongue lapped at them. Lance stared into the dark forest, mind reeling, chest jerking in short breaths. The mist figures were all around them, circling, waiting. He stared and suddenly they began to materialize into more defined forms, and Lance jerked in fear.

They were the past sacrifices. He recognized some--Hunk, Katie, Keith--but others weren't known to him. They stood watch over him, silent as the graves they no doubt inhabited.

Lance whimpered in fear, eyes wide, and the beast sensed it. It growled, low and threatening, and Lance shivered. The beast lifted him until they were face to face, and Lance felt himself float free of his body again, his mind trying to escape the reality of the wolf man before him.

He slammed back into his body once more as he was taken. He screamed as the beast shoved his way inside, pushing him down onto the monstrous red cock. Lance keened, head thrown back and hands tearing at black fur, but it didn't seem to bother the creature. The Lord of the Forest growled as he began to move, haunches thrusting. Lance held on as he was fucked, hole aching and burning as he was forced to submit.

The night was silent except for the noises between the two of them. Lance no longer felt the cold as his Lord took him, mated with him, made him his own. His hands traveled over the beast's face, over the long muzzle, up pointed ears. His Lord growled at him as he laid him out on the forest floor. Lance moaned weakly as the thrusts came harder and faster, his body straining to take it through the pulsing pain. The beast's tongue lolled as he took his pleasure from his sacrifice, claiming him.

Lance wondered if the others had suffered the same fate, but a look in the golden eyes told him no. No, this was just for him, just between him and his Lord. Lance was the chosen one, destined to be the Lord of the Forest's mate. He clung to his lover tightly, afraid of what that really meant. The beast rutted wildly now, snarling as it worked itself toward orgasm. Lance grasped the black fur in his hands as he held on, squeezing his eyes shut. He cried out into the black mass as something giant shoved into him, taking up space and pushing him apart and making him gasp for air. The Lord threw his head back and let out a piercing cry, a ululation, an exaltation. It sounded as if it came from two different throats at once, both man and wolf. It echoed into the night, and the ghostly shapes shuddered back in fear.

Lance screamed and arched as claws raked furrows down his back. He couldn't get away, caught on the beast's knot as he was. It snarled and bit his shoulder, savaging him, shaking him until he couldn't hold onto any thoughts but that of pain. The marks on his back burned and something felt so terribly wrong.

The beast reared up, leaving him aching and shaking on the forest floor, legs spread wide. The knot was still buried within him, and his buttocks dangled almost a foot off the forest floor by it. Lance keened with the strain of it, but even worse was the fire raging down his back, consuming him. He shook all over, sweating and panting. The Lord watched him with his glowing yellow eyes as he came inside, pumping his seed into his mate.

Lance screamed and arched, thrashing though it caused more pain. The Lord watched him writhe, eyes hungry. Lance screamed until his voice was raw. Something was so terribly wrong inside him; he could feel things shifting, changing, growing. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he stilled.

The knot slipped free, and Lance's body lolled on the forest floor. The Lord of the Forest stood and threw back his head, crying out to the full-bellied moon above. His blue eyed mate had come back to him after so long, so achingly long. The Lord had waited, untold years gone by as he waited for his beloved's rebirth. He begged the moon let them be one once more.

It answered his call. He twisted and bent, misshapen as he changed. He sank down again, down beside his mate, back arching as he snarled in pain. He became something new, there beneath the light of the moon with the black branches of the trees reaching upward.

The Lord rose. His fur was as pristine as the white snow on the mountains, his eyes still softly aglow. He rose on all four paws and shook himself, his prayer answered. The giant wolf turned toward his mate, softly nuzzling his lifeless body. He lapped at the blood crusting on the wounded shoulder and he waited and waited.

The cold breeze blew and Lance gasped. He arched and twisted and trembled, and his Lord sat by his side. Limbs bent in terrible ways, growing and shifting, the change come upon him. It took a while for he was not used to it yet. In time he would learn, and they had all the time in the world.

Lance sat up and sucked in his first breath in the frigid autumn air, his mate by his side. His fur was brown as crisp leaves, and his eyes glowed blue. The Lord leaned in, tongue gently lapping at his muzzle in greeting. They were together now.

They were home.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find me as keirdark on tumblr


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